They’re listed in TPWD’s Texas Most Unwanted Plants and Animals, and they’re right up there with feral hogs and zebra mussels. When found on personal property in Texas, you can kill as many of them as you want without a license. And it’s the same for licensed hunters anywhere in Texas—no limit—provided you aren’t making money off the pelts. Yet there are people who see them as “cute,” and view them as a novelty to be admired from a distance, much as one would appreciate a baby hippo at the zoo. This divergence in viewpoint almost always depends on whether these furry critters are on your land or someone else’s. The invasive species in question: Nutria (Myocastor coypus).
What some refer to as a “river rat,” really looks the part—nutria are very large aquatic rodents, beaver-like. They are about 2-feet long, with a large head, short legs and a stout body that appears hump-backed when on land. Most of them are dark brown, but occasionally you’ll see them more lightly colored or even albino. They have valves in their nostrils and mouths to seal out water when feeding or swimming. Females have teats located high on their backs so their young can suckle while floating in the water. With hind feet that are partially webbed, and eyes, ears, and nostrils set high on their heads, nutria are equipped so 3 vital sense organs are above the water line when swimming. And, when pursued, they’re near impossible to catch. They can batten all the hatches and swim long distances underwater, fully able to see where they are going the whole way. Another distinguishing characteristic is their distinctive white whiskers that stick out both sides of their nose—they show up 100 yards away. Take a gander: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-aKuh-YAK8
Nutria love to burrow in the soft earth near the water. Often the burrows are open at both ends, with the river entrance in the water but above the water level. They will crawl into the burrow and then make their way to an air-filled chamber and just hang out (similar to alligators in that way). Some of the tunnels are under roots of trees that are exposed along the banks of the river or stream. Nests are constructed on land among marsh vegetation and are located close to the water’s edge. Nests are made of reeds or sedges built up in large piles, almost like a swan’s nest.
Nutria are docile creatures, easy to handle in captivity. They are almost always nocturnal, so evidence of their presence is usually in the form of trails, scat, and the length of cut vegetation left behind on those trails. In the United States (they are native to South America), all significant nutria populations are in coastal areas. Still, they have been reported in at least 40 states and 3 Canadian provinces since their introduction to North America. Apparently, they are equally at home in salt or freshwater; however, freshwater marshes are their preferred habitat. In Texas, they’re found in the eastern 2/3rds of the state, but their range is expanding westward. Nutria have now reached the Big Bend area of the Trans Pecos. Their natural food consists almost entirely of aquatic and semiaquatic vegetation. Cattails, reeds, and sedges are especially prized snacks, but they’ve learned to like shellfish and nearby gardens when they can find them. So why are they such a threat?
Nutria eat about 3 lbs. of vegetation a night! This means they can do real damage to marshes and croplands, and they are a major threat to all wetlands in general because they feed on native plants that hold wetland soil together. In Louisianna and Texas especially, they are notorious for pillaging flooded rice and crawfish fields. The estimated value of sugarcane and rice damaged by Nutria each year has ranged from several thousand dollars to over a million dollars, according to the Texas Invasive Species Institute. Because of their burrowing habits, they also damage flood control levees that protect low-lying areas, weaken foundations of reservoir dams, buildings, roadbeds, and erode the banks of streams, lakes, and ditches.
Even though they make the “public enemy” list based on behavior alone, there’s more. The rodents can serve as hosts for numerous pathogens, including tuberculosis and septicemia, which can infect people, pets, and livestock. They also commonly carry parasites, such as blood flukes, tapeworms, and liver flukes. They even have a rash named after them, “nutria itch,” transmitted by a nematode they often carry. Many of these harmful organisms—found in their feces and urine—can contaminate drinking water supplies and swimming areas.
Okay, if they’re so docile why can’t we get rid of them? Simply put, they are breeding machines! Around 9 months after being born, female nutria begin having babies. They can breed again within two days of giving birth. A breeding pair can pump out two full litters (of 4-5 young each) within a year and still end the year pregnant. Nutria make whoopie all year long. Here in North America, they have no natural predators; however, birds of prey, like bald eagles and hawks, are a threat, as are garfish, dogs, turtles, and alligators. Relocating nutria to a new area is useless because it merely relocates the problem—and can lead to establishment of new nutria colonies.
Like so many similar stories, how this invasion got started was a comedy of errors. Nutria fur is thick and glossy so Nutria were imported into the U.S. in the early 1900’s by fur ranchers trying to make a buck. It didn’t catch on. Many of the nutria from these ranches were freed into the wild when businesses failed in the late 1940’s. State and federal agencies then got the bright idea that nutria would control undesirable vegetation and so they translocated them to other parts of the U.S. as weed cutters. This was, of course, about as dumb as a set of sofa cushions! To make matters worse, a terrible hurricane scattered nutria over wide areas of the coastal southwest Louisiana and southeast Texas a few years later. And the genie was out of the bottle.
As it turns out, in the battle to save our wetlands there are pacifists among us. Not everyone wants to wage war against these frumpy water rats. Among the waterways of Dallas, Houston and other places with water features some urban citizens are entertained by the presence of nutria. Some people even go so far as to make them pampered house pets. Take, for example, the case of ‘Neuty’ the nutria of Bucktown, Louisiana:
One Denny Lacoste rescued an infant nutria that had been hit by a car and he and wife Myra raised the critter as a family pet. In a blaze of originality, they called him Neuty. Today he lives in their home, swims in their saltwater pool, and dines daily on the finest corn on the cob, sweet potatoes, kiwi fruit, mixed salad greens and watermelon that money can buy. For treats, Neuty gets occasional doughnuts, vanilla wafers, and Popeye’s fried chicken! Like traditional house pets, he’s potty trained, and has his own nest in a hall bathroom. In the evening, Neuty takes his favorite sticks, shoes, beach towels and other toys to bed with him before turning in for the night. Neuty has been caged only once when he vacationed with his family in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Naturally, Neuty has his own Facebook page, posts to TikTok and has otherwise achieved social media fame. He’s also cultivated influential friends in high places. And that became a problem.
You see, there are laws against keeping wild animals. . .even in Louisianna. So, one day state Wildlife and Fisheries Department agents showed up to haul him off to a more appropriate place—like the Baton Rouge Zoo. But Neuty wasn’t at home that day, so he evaded capture. Then a local newspaper reporter got the story and, happily, public outcry, the intervention of a state senator, and Neuty’s lawyer with six sets of teeth all led the authorities to a change of heart. Suffice it to say that expedited paperwork was put through. As of March 2023, Neuty was safe, secure, and living happily with his forever family. Amen.
So, which side are you on? Are you part of the protesters who warn of a sinking environmental ship? Those who see the world that’s coming as a marsh dissolving beneath climate-driven storms. In their view, the world that’s coming isn’t coming anymore; it’s already here. And, like the nutria, it isn’t going anywhere. Or are you of the opposing persuasion? Those who feel drawn to the Nutria, who might pass them in the park and pose for a picture with them? Who speak to a non-intervention ethic even though they know they’re invasive species that’re not supposed to be here. “But guess what,” their argument goes, “Neither are we.”
By Larry Gfeller